Unlike Father Unlike Son
by elbcw
Summary: 'What do you want' asked Athos, not taking his eyes off Aramis, who was being held on the ground. 'I want you to learn your place, you gave up your nobility, you're a fool,' said Victor. 'If you have an issue with me, why are you restraining my friend.' 'I want to discipline you, and receiving that punishment yourself would be beneath you, he gets to be your whipping boy.'
1. Chapter 1

Authors note: From an idea by Fleuramis.

Unlike Father, Unlike Son.

Chapter One

Delivering messages to nobles could be one of the duller duties the Musketeers performed. It was mundane but needed to be done. The messages often contained sensitive information or requests from the Palace. The Musketeers were not always party to the contents of the messages and frequently they were not interested. The task was to merely deliver the message, possibly wait for a reply and return to the Palace or garrison.

As Athos and Aramis approached the large house belonging to Victor Monette they slowed the horses. Monette owned a large amount of land including a large wooded area they had trotted through. Aramis had entertained Athos by pointing out the various plants that were used in the assortment of medical draughts he could concoct. Athos had chuckled when Aramis pointed out that Porthos still referred to the painkilling drinks as witchcraft, despite benefiting from them frequently.

It was a pleasant day, the weather perfect for a ride, not too hot that they ended up sweating, but not so cool they needed their capes.

'It's a shame d'Artagnan and Porthos got lumbered with protecting the King,' said Aramis as he took in the manicured garden which reached around the house.

'Lumbered,' said Athos, 'is not really an appropriate description for being given the duty of protecting our monarch.'

Aramis grinned in reply as Athos rolled his eyes.

They dismounted as a boy of about sixteen approached them.

'Are you here to see my father, the Comte?' he asked, reaching up to stroke Aramis' mare.

'Yes,' replied Athos.

'He won't be long, I'll take your horses to the stable if you like,' said the boy, taking the reins for both horses and leading them away without waiting for a response.

As he walked away the boy called back to the two musketeers, 'he's coming now,' and nodded across to his right.

Walking across the lawn was a well-dressed man in his forties. The Comte was with two men, one appeared to be a gardener who was speaking to the Comte, the other was in his early twenties wearing similar clothes to the Comte. As the three men got closer the Comte dismissed the gardener with a nod and a smile. The gardener tipped his hat and wandered off towards a bed of roses.

'Hello,' said the Comte reaching out his hand in greeting, he warmly shook hands with both Athos and Aramis, 'I'm Monette, do you have a message for me? I was hoping the King would respond quickly.'

'Yes Monsieur,' replied Athos, 'we have been asked to wait for your reply.'

Athos pulled the letter from his doublet and handed it to the Comte. As Monette took the letter he paused looking at Athos.

'You're the Comte de la Fere?' said Monette.

Athos could not find a response at first, he rarely used his title, and not at all since he had gifted his land to the villagers who lived there.

'I do not use the title Monsieur,' Athos said, feeling a little awkward.

'Oh, I heard what you did. I was impressed,' the Comte said with a friendly smile, 'defending your King and Country is a more noble thing.'

The younger man with the Comte shook his head and said with a sneer, 'you gave up your title to become a Musketeer.'

'Please ignore my son,' said the Comte trying to hide his embarrassment, 'Victor has become somewhat elitist since he spent the Summer with his Uncle in Paris.'

Victor curled his lip into a sneer a second time as he looked Athos and Aramis up and down, not bothering to hide his disdain for the pair.

'Victor, show these gentlemen to the library. I will read the letter and write a response...Please feel free to look at the books, I am rather proud of the collection I have there.'

'Thank you,' said Athos.

The Comte walked towards the house purposefully. The two Musketeers turned to Victor who, after looking at them again, began to lead them after the Comte.

Victor reached the steps to the main door, as he started to ascend them he missed the first step and stumbled forward. Aramis, who was slightly to the side of the young man, reached out and grabbed his arm and waist to prevent him falling completely.

As Victor was pulled back to stand straight he turned to Aramis, a look of anger on his face.

'Get off me,' he said pushing Aramis' hands away, 'how dare you touch me.'

Aramis looked confused, he glanced back at Athos who shrugged his shoulders slightly not understanding the man's reaction. As Aramis looked back at Victor, Athos was shocked to see the young man pull his hand back and slap Aramis hard across the face. Aramis stumbled back down the step, lost his footing and fell to the floor, a look of shock on his face.

Victor stepped towards the fallen man drawing his foot back to kick him.

MMMM

Aramis tensed up. He was in no position to prevent the kick Victor was aiming at him. He was relieved when Athos grabbed Victor from behind and pulled him away.

'What do you think you're doing?' said Victor as he shrugged out of Athos grasp and turned towards him.

'He did not do anything to deserve that,' said Athos, trying to keep his voice calm, despite how angry he obviously felt.

Victor squared up to Athos who stood his ground.

'Victor!' shouted the Comte from the top step as looked down at the three men. He descended the steps and pushed his son back slightly.

He leaned forward, holding out his hand toward Aramis who allowed the Comte to help him up.

'I am so sorry, monsieur,' Monette said as he looked Aramis over for any injury the fall might have caused him.

'He grabbed me,' said Victor, his voice becoming a whine.

'He stopped you falling and hurting yourself,' said Athos.

Aramis watched Monette turn to his son and glare at him, 'get inside...if you behave like a child I will treat you as such.'

Victor walked up the steps into the house mumbling under his breath.

'Are you injured?' asked Monette as he looked at Aramis again.

Unconsciously Aramis touched the side of his face where Victor had hit him. His cheek stung and he suspected he would be left with a bruise.

'No monsieur,' he said.

'I want you both to have lunch with me,' Monette held up his hand when Athos was about to protest, 'I insist. I want to hear about Paris. I have not been into the city for several weeks...and it would do my sons good to interact with people who are not either staff or...me.'

'In which case, we would be happy to join you,' said Athos acquiescing to the request.

The Comte smiled and turned back to the house, leading the two Musketeers up the steps. The large house was tastefully decorated but looked lived in, evidence of the occupants could be seen. A pair of muddy boots lay by the door, apparently kicked off by Victor as he had entered.

After showing them into the library the Comte excused himself, leaving them alone.

'Are you alright?' asked Athos looking at Aramis.

Aramis smirked, 'of course I am, it would take more than that to keep me down. I lost my footing, that's why I fell.'

Athos nodded, 'that young man could do with teaching a lesson.'

'I agree, the younger lad, was much more polite,' replied Aramis as he started to wander around the library looking at the books.

'My father thought nothing of disciplining my brother and I if we were insubordinate.'

'Didn't you say that Monette's wife died a few years ago? Perhaps he is struggling to find the correct balance bringing his sons up on his own.'

'Your father managed it…'

Aramis smiled, 'oh I had my fair share of being disciplined.'

Athos sat in one of the chairs looking out across the gardens, 'although I suspect young Victor would think it was beneath him to be disciplined, he would expect his father to engage a whipping boy to take his punishment for him.'

Aramis laughed, 'the upper classes are a continuous source of amusement.'

'We are,' agreed Athos, 'which is why I am glad I do not take part in such things anymore.'

MMMM

Victor continued to act sullenly around the two Musketeers as they enjoyed a simple, informal, lunch with the Comte and his sons.

The younger son, Leon, was very interested in the soldier's lives, he was particularly taken by Aramis' weapons which lay hooked over a chair a few yards from the table they were eating at.

'You need to keep your guns clean and the powder dry,' Aramis explained to the fascinated boy.

'Father,' said Leon, 'when are you going to teach me to shoot?'

Monette smiled at his son, 'soon, you're about the same age Victor was now.'

Aramis glanced across at Victor who was scowling at Athos in between bites of his food. Athos was ignoring the young man, which seem to inflame Victor's ire further.

'Can I be a Musketeer?'

Aramis looked over at the Comte before he answered, not wanting to say anything out of turn when the Comte nodded with a small smile the marksman replied.

'You have to be good at sword fighting and shooting first. We are not called Musketeers for nothing...but I am sure in a couple of years, with a letter of introduction our Captain would consider you.'

Leon smiled widely, before helping himself to more cheese despite his brother's disapproval.

'Why would you want to be like them?' said Victor as he took a sip of wine, 'you're better than them…'

The Comte put his knife down and looked at his older son saying firmly, 'one more word from you and I shall have you sent off to stay with my cousin Marc.'

Victor went back to eating his food, he did not make eye contact with anyone for the rest of the meal.

'Leon,' said Monette, turning to his younger son who looked a little worried after the exchange between his father and older brother, 'if you want to be a soldier I would not stop you...I would only ask that you think carefully about it first. It is not an easy life, it is dangerous, and you would not be appreciated by everyone.'

Athos nodded his agreement when Leon looked over at him, 'it is hard work. And the chances of getting hurt or killed is high.'

Leon's eyes widened, 'have you been hurt?'

Both Musketeers smiled, 'at various times yes,' said Aramis.

The information seemed to elevate the two soldiers even further in Leon's mind. Monette was trying to hide a smile as he watched his son's fascination grow.

'Which battles have you been in?'

MMMM

Watching for any threat to the King was second nature to Porthos, he found that he could let his mind wander as he looked around. They were enjoying a hunting trip. At least that is what Porthos told himself. Although the King looked decidedly unimpressed with the hunting so far. The beaters had not managed to flush anything more than a couple of birds which did not offer themselves up as good enough targets for the monarch.

The foreign emissary, Porthos had already forgotten where they were from, had spent most of his time berating anyone that came near him. The King actually looked bored of the whole event. As they had progressed through the wood the King had slowed his horse so that he came into line with Porthos and d'Artagnan. Porthos sighed inwardly, he wondered what the King would want. He never spoke to them unless he wanted something.

'I imagine you are finding this as dull as I am,' he said quietly, so that the emissary could not hear him.

Porthos wanted to reply but knew it would not be a good idea.

'You can be honest, Porthos, isn't it?'

Porthos nodded.

'Be honest...traipsing around forests with me, particularly when there has not been a threat for weeks must feel quite demeaning to a soldier like yourself and d'Artagnan?'

Porthos tried to hide the smile that played across his lips. The King did not miss it. He leaned over, placing a hand on Porthos' arm.

'I am very bored. I know I am disparaging of the working classes at times, but I sometimes wonder if a hard day's graft in the fields would be more enlightening than the longest political meeting.'

'Majesty,' said d'Artagnan from Porthos' other side, 'we are here to protect you...from all threats…'

D'Artagnan nodded towards the emissary. The King chuckled.

'Don't tempt me, d'Artagnan...would you though? If I ordered you to run him through…'

Porthos glanced across to d'Artagnan whose expression clouded at the suggestion.

The King realised what he had suggested.

'No, you have more integrity than that. More than I have, I can assure you.'

They walked on for a little while before the King spoke again.

'Where are the other two, Athos and Aramis?'

'On assignment, sire, they had to deliver your message to Comte Monette,' replied Porthos, wishing he had been allowed to go.

'Oh yes. I like Monette, he was always good to me when I was younger, spoke to me as if I was a normal person. It made a change to the fawning I got from most of the other nobility.'

The King looked away for a few moments.

'He has a son, Victor, I think his name is. Younger than me by several years, but he used to visit the Palace occasionally with his father. I remember catching the lad hitting one of my servants. I stopped him, asked him what had happened, he told me he saw the poor man drop a tray and was teaching him a lesson. The young upstart was kicking the poor man,' the King paused shaking his head at the memory, 'I know that the serving classes need to be kept in their place but they should not be treated without respect.'

Porthos was a little surprised at the King, who had been known to shout at his servants, although Porthos could not remember a time he had raised his hand to one.

The King was looking at Porthos when he continued, 'I hate to say it, but you should be pleased you are not on assignment with your friends, Victor had a particular dislike for dark-skinned people. I cannot understand what his problem was...I suspect some other influence on him. He certainly did not get it from his father.'

Porthos decided he was glad he had not been picked to go to Monette's. Perhaps Treville already knew of the son's misguided ideas.

'I hope your friends only have to deal with Victor's father. Victor would be around twenty now. I expect he is worse than he was when I last saw him.'

MMMM

As the lunchtime conversation had continued Leon had managed to persuade his father and Aramis to allow him to fire one of the marksman's weapons. The Comte had indicated a large old tree across the neat lawn that they could use to aim at.

Athos watched as Aramis took the boy across the lawn talking him through the parts of the gun as they went. The Comte stood with Athos watching them.

'His mother always said, he would not be able to stay here. He has a need to travel. He sometimes goes out first thing and I don't see him again until it starts to get dark.'

'Somewhat different to Victor,' said Athos.

'I hate to imagine what my estate will be like after I am gone. I would much rather leave it to Leon than Victor. I should never have allowed him to stay with my brother over the summer. He is a bad influence. Victor had issues before but has become even more brazen and outspoken since the visit.'

Athos found that he agreed.

Aramis had found a spot several yards from the tree and had given his gun to Leon who was listening intently to the marksman's instructions as he loaded the weapon. Aramis stood behind the boy and helped him line the weapon up and sight the target.

When Leon fired, and a small chunk of bark spun off the tree they both cheered. As they walked back Leon looked very happy with himself, he shook Aramis' hand before running off towards the stables.

'He has a good eye, monsieur, I think the Musketeers would benefit from him in a few years' time,' said Aramis as he joined Monette and Athos by the steps of the house.

Leon reappeared a few seconds later leading the two Musketeers horses, he was still smiling as he handed them over.

'I will see that your reply is delivered today monsieur,' said Athos patting his doublet where he had slipped the Comte's letter earlier.

'Thank you,' said Monette, 'I hope to see you both again at some point.'

Athos nodded, and Aramis tipped his hat to the Comte and his son as they pushed the horses into a trot away from the house.

As they passed the tree that Aramis and Leon had used as target practice Athos said, 'you really could not get two siblings who were so different.'

'I didn't see where Victor disappeared to after lunch, a most insolent young man...I'd like to see what he made of Treville at his most angry...or see him try to match up to Porthos in a brawl,' chuckled Aramis.

They continued through the wooded area, the house far behind them. As the wood thickened Aramis' mare became unusually skittish causing the marksman to slow her down to a walk.

Athos twisted around, 'what is the matter with her?'

'No idea, she's usually so calm,' replied Aramis as he tried to soothe the distressed beast.

Athos looked around them, he wondered if there was something in the vicinity that had spooked the horse. When his own mount suddenly reared and whinnied Athos was taken by surprise. He was thrown from the saddle by the quickness of the movement. A moment in the air had Athos trying to twist his body around so that he did not land on his back, he reached out his arm without thinking to break his fall. The audible snap as he landed told him that breaking his fall was the least of his worries.

'Athos!'

Athos had landed awkwardly on his side his broken arm under him, he managed to roll onto his back and pull the injured limb across his chest protectively. He could not help the cry of pain as he did so. His breathing was quick, his vision greying as waves of pain coursed through his body emanating from his right forearm.

With his eyes screwed shut he did not see Aramis approach and kneel beside him, the marksman's gloved hand grabbing his head and shoulders to try to get his attention.

'Athos?'

'Arm...broken…' panted Athos through clenched teeth.

Athos could feel Aramis' hands gently sliding along his right arm before pausing at the break when Athos tried to pull away.

'Sorry...I need to work out what's broken, it might only be one of the bones...the bone hasn't pierced the skin...I don't think you'll lose the use of the arm…'

Athos was having trouble focusing as pain washed over him again. He decided to concentrate on his breathing, if he could control that he might be able to focus a little. He had not broken a limb since his childhood and that had healed quickly, but he knew that broken limbs in adults took longer to recover.

Aramis was talking to him again, 'if you could try not to pass out, I'd appreciate it. Can you open your eyes?'

Athos obeyed and after a few seconds managed to focus on his friend who was looking at him with obvious worry. Over Aramis shoulder, he saw both their horses standing patiently, whatever had upset them seemed to have gone.

'What happened?'

Aramis followed Athos' gaze and looked back at the two horses, 'I don't know, but they both seem fine now.'

Aramis helped Athos to sit up. Athos cradled his broken arm as Aramis looked around.

'I need something to splint it with. We can sort it out properly when we are back at the garrison...or I could go back to Monette and get us some help from there?'

Athos shook his head, 'I would rather not bother them…'

Aramis steadied his friend when Athos fought off a dizzy spell. He nodded to Aramis when he had regained his equilibrium.

'Still going to have to get you back on a horse, I think you will have to double up with me...I'm not convinced you aren't going to pass out.'

Athos managed a pained smile at the remark. He watched Aramis move away and look at the ground for something to use as a splint.

The sound of twigs cracking drew the attention of them both. Three young men appeared from the undergrowth on the other side of the rough path through the wood. They each had a gun, trained on Athos and Aramis.

MMMM


	2. Chapter 2

Authors note: Thanks for all the 'favourites'/follows/review. I hope this second chapter is as enjoyed as the first.

Chapter Two

'Seriously d'Artagnan, 'ave you picked up Aramis' ability to sense danger before it arrives?'

'Sorry, but what the King said has me worried, I don't know why.'

D'Artagnan glanced over at the King who was still within earshot but was listening to the emissary who appeared deeply passionate about whatever he was talking about. The King had probably not heard their exchange.

'They'll be fine, they only have to deliver a letter and wait for a response, what could go wrong?'

MMMM

Aramis took a couple of steps toward the newcomers, his hand reaching for his own weapon as he did so.

'I wouldn't if I were you,' said a familiar voice from behind Athos.

Victor pushed a gun into the side of Athos' head as he spoke. Aramis looked at Athos who shook his head slightly. He knew the marksman would not be able to take on four men armed with guns on his own. He would try, but Athos did not want to see his friend hurt unnecessarily.

Athos guessed that Victor was the cause of the horses playing up and he was now taking advantage of Athos' injury to have a little fun at their expense.

'On your knees,' said Victor.

As the other three young men advanced, Aramis slowly did as he was told.

'What do you want Victor? We're leaving, we're not going to bother you any further,' said Aramis as he held his hands out in supplication to their captor.

Victor had moved around to face Athos, who looked up at him, 'is it broken? That's a shame.'

Using his foot on Athos shoulder he pushed the swordsman back to the ground. Athos could not help a stifled cry of pain.

'Hey,' shouted Aramis, scrambling back up to stand.

Without warning the other three young men grabbed Aramis and tripped him back to the ground pinning him down.

Athos watched through narrowed eyes as they pulled his friend's weapons belts off him before wrenching his boots off and forcing him to kneel before undoing and divesting him of his doublet.

The entire time he was being assaulted Aramis fought back at the men. But the three men were able to complete their task without the marksman escaping their grasp. Aramis was panting by the time they pinned him back to the muddy ground and began binding his arms behind his back with rope.

Victor pulled Athos up to sit as one of the three men crossed to them and undid his weapon belt, pulling it roughly from his waist. Athos hissed in pain as his arm was agitated by the action.

'What do you want?' asked Athos quietly, not taking his eyes off Aramis who was still struggling with the two men who were holding him down.

'I want you to learn your place...you gave up your nobility, you're a fool,' said Victor from his position crouched beside Athos his arm slung across his captive's shoulders, the gun held temptingly close. Athos knew he would not be able to grab the gun and twist around to aim at Victor without causing himself enough pain to pass out.

'If you have an issue with me, why are you restraining my friend. He has done nothing wrong, let him go.'

Victor smiled as he replied, 'but I want to discipline you, and receiving that punishment yourself would be beneath you...he gets to act as your whipping boy.'

Athos closed his eyes as he remembered his comment to Aramis when they were alone in the library. Victor must have been listening. Athos could not think what to say to the angry young man. He only hoped Victor did not plan to do any more than try to scare them both.

Surely the young man would not be so vindictive as to actually hurt them?

MMMM

When Victor had knocked Athos down Aramis was prepared to take his chance with the young men. He knew he probably would not be able to overcome them all, but he could thin the group out a little.

What he was not expecting was for them to be so organised. The three young men were easily strong enough between them to hold him down and pull him about as they needed in order to strip him of his weapons, boots and doublet. To what end Aramis did not know. He could not understand why he was being treated in such a way whilst Victor talked quietly to Athos. Athos was clearly in pain from his injured arm, but Aramis could tell his friend was trying to reason with the angry young man.

As he was pushed back to the ground and had his arms pulled back and bound tightly Aramis wondered what Victor had planned. He had already gone further than Aramis had expected.

When he had been ordered to his knees Aramis had expected the petulant youth to fire the gun towards him but not at him. He expected the whole thing was just a show for his friends. Aramis hoped the men would then leave and he could go back to dealing with Athos' injury.

As he was being assaulted Aramis had struggled and made it difficult for the three men, he had told them exactly what he would like to do to them but one of them had hit him across the back of the head at one point making Aramis question why he was bothering to fight the young men. They were going to win regardless.

A sharp cry from Athos caused Aramis to strain to see his friend. Victor had pulled him up to stand, the colour drained from his face. Aramis was worried the swordsman would pass out, he was panting again with his eyes shut.

'Can't you see he's injured,' said Aramis, his voice muffled by the position he was in.

'Shut that one up,' was Victor's reply.

Before Aramis could complain a rag was stuffed into his mouth to gag him, a second rag employed to tie around his head. He swore through the gag but only received another strike to the head for his troubles.

'Please let my man go,' said Athos, as calmly as he could manage, but his voice cracked betraying the pain he was in.

'No, I told you, I want to teach you how to behave, and he is your whipping boy.'

Aramis saw Athos look at him with an expression of apology. Aramis had a fair idea what was going to happen, and he knew his friend was going to be wracked with guilt. It was clear now that Victor meant to harm them. Athos was already injured, and Aramis suspected Victor had something to do with the horses becoming skittish and throwing his friend.

'If you let us go now, we will just leave, we will not tell your father.'

Athos could not help a scream of pain when Victor grabbed him on the right forearm. Aramis pulled at his restraints as Athos nearly crashed to the ground. Somehow the swordsman managed to stay conscious. Aramis only hoped Victor's actions had not made the injury worse.

MMMM

'I think we have hunted enough. I should like to rest for a while. We will head back now.'

The King turned his horse and started back through the wood. The emissary, who had been in the middle of talking looked a little stunned at the Kings rapid change of mood. Porthos turned his horse and took up a position to the Kings left with d'Artagnan flanking the monarch on the other side.

As they trotted back to the Palace the King glanced back at them both with a small nod. Porthos wondered if he had curtailed the hunting in part for their benefit. He was sure the man had heard them talking about Athos and Aramis. Although Porthos wondered if the King was using it as a part excuse to stop what was clearly a tedious diplomatic engagement. Porthos did not mind. He only hoped the King would dismiss them quickly. Athos and Aramis should have returned by the time they reached the garrison. Porthos intended to tease d'Artagnan about his misplaced concern.

The King did dismiss all his attendants when he reached the Palace. After bowing respectfully, the two Musketeers remounted and returned to the garrison as quickly as the busy city streets would allow them.

They found Treville standing at the top of the steps which led to his office watching the garrison gate.

'You two are back early.'

'The King got bored, dismissed us all...are Athos and Aramis back yet?'

'No,' replied Treville as he walked down the steps to join them, 'you seem concerned.'

'D'Artagnan is,' said Porthos as he draped his arm over the younger musketeer's shoulders, 'he thinks some harm 'as come to them.'

D'Artagnan shook his head and pushed Porthos away with a smile, 'it's just the way the King described the Comte's son...I'm sure they're fine.'

'They are late back, and if the King had concerns, I don't think he would object to me sending a couple of men to double check his message reached its destination…'

Treville nodded toward the gates before turning and walking back up the stairs.

'Let's hope you and the King are mistaken,' he said before disappearing into his office.

Porthos looked at d'Artagnan, 'I 'ope you're wrong as well...you've got me worrying now.'

MMMM

One of Victor's friends, Marc, had dragged Athos through the wood, holding his left arm tightly. The young man appeared to be of limited intelligence and did as he was directed by Victor. Athos was not given a chance to catch his breath, the pain from his injury had caused him to come close to passing out several times.

Victor led the way, picking a path through the undergrowth, pushing aside low hanging branches as he went. More than once, one had sprung back into Athos face causing him to stumble, then cry in pain as Marc pulled him upright.

Each time he cried in pain he heard Aramis shouting, his voice muffled by the gag. The marksman was being escorted by the other two young men, Philippe and Paul. Athos was sure Philippe had hit Aramis a couple of times when Victor was not watching them. The other man, Paul, seemed a bit quieter, Athos wondered if he could be persuaded to see sense and let them go.

A small wooden barn came into view, it was empty. They were marched inside. Athos was pushed against one of the support beams and held there by Marc with a little more force than was necessary. Victor circled Athos and grabbed his arms causing him to cry out in pain again. As if on cue, Aramis protested at his friend's treatment. Philippe kicked Aramis in the shin causing him to crash to the floor, landing hard on his knees.

Athos was struggling to remain conscious, his head bowed. Victor grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head up.

'Shall we begin?'

Athos looked at Victor with disdain. He could not form a response, he was in too much pain.

'Let's start with a punch to the face, I would very much have liked to do that earlier when you stopped me kicking your friend.'

Philippe nodded when Victor looked towards him. Paul held Aramis upright as the bigger man punched him hard across the face. The force of the punch snapped Aramis' head to the side, but after blinking a few times he managed to return to staring at Victor. Athos noted that his friend's nose was now bloody.

Victor turned back to Athos, he looked him up and down before saying, 'next I would like to hit him in the stomach.'

Aramis was pulled up to his feet and held firmly by Paul and Marc who had joined the other two. Philippe hit the marksman hard, causing him to double over. Athos could tell his friend was struggling to breathe through the gag.

'It's me you have a problem with, leave him alone.'

Victor ignored Athos as he said, 'I'll let you pick the next few spots...have some fun, Athos needs to be taught a lesson after all.'

'You cannot get away with this,' said Athos as he watched the three men hitting Aramis indiscriminately.

The marksman had been released but fell to his knees where Philippe took advantage and kicked him over. With his arms bound behind him, Aramis could do nothing to prevent the kicks that followed.

'That will do.'

Athos could not tell if his friend was still conscious, but he was still breathing. His shoulders were heaving with the effort.

Victor turned to Athos pressing one hand into his neck pushing his head back against the wood of the post.

'I will get away with it, because I will make this look like an accident.'

Through clenched teeth, Athos managed to reply, 'this does not look like an accident.'

'It will,' replied Victor as he released Athos.

Victor walked across to Aramis and grabbed him by the arm, pulling him up onto his knees. Marc grabbed Aramis by the other arm and helped Victor to drag the beaten man across the barn a few yards towards a trough of murky water.

'Are you thirsty Athos? Do you need a drink?'

'You need to stop this,' said Athos, 'you won't get away with it.'

Athos could do nothing but watch as the hate-filled young man pushed his friend into the water. Aramis bucked and tried to pull away as his head was dunked under the muddy water. Athos wondered if they intended to kill Aramis. Surely, they could not make out that his friend had drowned by accident. No, thought Athos, this was still part of his punishment.

Victor pulled Aramis from the water for a few seconds. Aramis was struggling to take a breath. Victor glanced across to Athos a look of cruelty playing on his face, the young man was enjoying himself. Athos could not understand how a man as friendly as Monette could have fathered someone as evil as Victor.

Aramis was pushed under the water again.

'Stop it, you will kill him…' Paul, stepped forward and grabbed Victor's arm, 'you have to stop Vic, it would look obvious if he's been drowned.'

'Perhaps you are right,' said Victor as he hauled Aramis out of the water and pushed him to the ground.

Aramis lay on his side, his eyes unfocused as he tried to breathe through the now soaked gag. Marc leaned forward and pulled the fabric from Aramis who gasped in air.

'We'll get our horses and run them down, we can make out we didn't see them.'

Athos could not believe the young man was of sound mind. No one would believe that they had been accidentally knocked down by horses.

Victor turned and without a second glance at Athos walked from the barn, the three other young men followed dutifully. Paul looked back briefly but followed the others, leaving the two Musketeer alone.

MMMM

D'Artagnan and Porthos had wasted no time reaching Monette's estate. The Comte lived just outside the city. They started to make their way across the large estate. Neither man had spoken much during the journey, the unspoken worry they both shared had grown. D'Artagnan wondered if the four of them had some sort of sixth sense. They always seemed to know when one of them was in trouble.

The woods that surrounded the estate were thick, but a rough road had been constructed through them to ease the way for visitors. D'Artagnan knew there was a properly built road on the other side of the estate, but they wanted to reach the house quickly so were not circling around.

Porthos was slightly ahead of d'Artagnan when he slowed his horse to a trot, before stopping him completely looking off to the left. He twisted around to look back at d'Artagnan.

'Aramis' horse,' he said nodding towards the mare as she walked towards her stablemates.

Athos' horse followed, stopping when d'Artagnan reached forward and grabbed the reins. D'Artagnan looked about for any sign of the horse's riders.

Something caught his eye, a reflection in a small patch of sunlight that had filtered through the dense trees. He dismounted and walked a few paces into the wood.

'Their weapons, and,' he paused bending down to pick up what he had found, 'Aramis' doublet and boots.'

Porthos looked around again before calling out the missing Musketeers names. When he received no reply, he turned back to d'Artagnan.

'Let's keep going, perhaps Monette has some answers.'

MMMM

Athos watched as the four men walked away disappearing into the wood. He turned to look at Aramis who was still trying to catch his breath. He was lying on his side facing away from Athos.

'Aramis?'

'Have they...gone?'

'Yes.'

Aramis continued to gasp for breath, but he also started to move, trying to pull himself up to stand.

'Take your time…'

'I planned on...that…you stay...awake…'

'I will,' said Athos.

They both knew how serious their situation was. Even though Athos knew Victor would not get away with killing them, he would prefer that he not get away with trying to kill them instead.

He watched as, after several attempts, the panting marksman managed to push himself up to his knees. He was bowed forward, blinking, before he looked across at Athos and managed a smile.

'This is fun.'

'I'm sorry…'

Aramis pushed himself up onto his feet. He stumbled forward a few steps before finding his balance. Athos was relieved to see his friends breathing was finally settling. What he was not happy about was the state of the Aramis' bare feet. He had not noticed the cuts and scrapes before as his friend had been walked to the barn behind him.

'Don't you start with pointless apologies, Athos. This was not your fault.'

Athos nodded, 'what are your injuries?'

'They punched me, I'll be fine, bruised, yes, but that will be it.'

'Your feet,' said Athos looking pointedly at his friend.

'...could be a problem, but let's try to get ourselves free first.'

Athos nodded again, Aramis did not look well, he was pale and swaying slightly. In his current state, he could do nothing for his brother. Aramis had walked behind Athos and was inspecting the ropes around his wrists.

'It doesn't look too tight, I might be able to undo it...sorry, but I'll probably hurt you in the process, I won't be able to see what I'm doing.'

'Just get it done, I can't help you until you have helped me,' replied Athos trying not to tense up at the pain he knew he would experience as Aramis blindly tried to undo the bindings on his wrists.

He heard Aramis sigh before he turned around and began to feel the ropes with his fingers. Athos tried not to react to the pain the movement of the ropes caused. Aramis had to stop several times and turn back to look at the knotted rope.

When Athos hissed in pain Aramis paused.

'Keep going.'

'Sorry,' said Aramis as he continued to pull at the rope, 'I think I've got it now.'

Athos could feel the rope loosening. As it fell away and he was able to move his injured arm back in front of him he found himself feeling faint.

'Sit down before you fall down,' said Aramis.

Athos leaned on Aramis' shoulder as he lowered himself to the ground.

'Take a minute...but not too many, I would like to be freed as well...not sure how you're going to manage that one-handed.'

Athos opened his eyes, he did not remember closing them, 'knife in my boot.'

Aramis smiled, 'you are full of surprises.'

Athos pulled the small knife from his right boot with his left hand. Aramis turned around and shuffled back to be closer to Athos.

'This may take a while.'

'We don't have much choice, I can't set your arm without the use of my own.'

Athos managed to huff out a chuckle as he started to slice the blade across the ropes that were keeping his friend restrained.

MMMM


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Aramis had found a couple of strong pieces of wood to splint Athos' arm. They used the rope that had been tied around the swordsman's wrists to secure the splint. Aramis had to steady Athos several times when he swayed and almost passed out.

'What about your feet?' asked Athos.

'Nothing we can do for now, it's just scrapes and bruises. Even if I could clean them, I can't dress them.'

Athos looked out of the open-sided barn, 'it is getting late, I do not think we can stay here.'

Aramis agreed, they did not want to be in the barn when Victor inevitably returned with his friends. They had to try to find their way back to the house.

'It should stay light long enough for us to get back to the house,' said Aramis as he rose and helped Athos to his feet.

Athos looked pale and a little unfocused, the pain, he imagined, was difficult to manage. They walked a few paces from the barn. Aramis quickly realised his feet were worse than he had first thought, but he did not want to bother Athos about it. There was nothing either of them could do. It made more sense to get back to Monette where they could get properly cleaned up.

Aramis wondered what Monette would do. The kind man would be mortified to find out what his son had done and what his son had been planning on doing to them both.

Aramis shivered, he was glad he was walking behind Athos, who would no doubt have tried to give him his doublet to wear. But Athos had his own issues. The break to his arm would heal, Aramis was sure of it, but the extra strain which had been put on it by Victor would not help. His friend would be out of action for several weeks.

The ground they were walking on was uneven, Athos seemed to have forgotten that Aramis was barefoot and was taking a fairly quick pace. Aramis did not want to complain, they needed to get to help quickly anyway. When he sliced his foot on a sharp rock, Aramis had to stop himself from cursing in pain. He paused and looked at his foot. A gash along the side of his foot, deep enough to bleed. It would need stitches. Aramis baulked at the idea, he knew that would be very painful. But it was the least of his worries. The chances of one of the myriad of cuts and scrapes he already had becoming infected as they walked through the wood was high.

But there was nothing they could do about it.

MMMM

Athos was aware of Aramis slowing down, the marksman was trying to keep up with his pace, but it was clear his lack of boots was causing him issues. As the afternoon had turned to evening the temperature had also dropped. Missing his doublet as well, Aramis would also be feeling the cold, particularly after his soaking in the water trough. Athos thought about offering his own doublet to his friend, but the thought of easing his broken arm from the sleeve made him feel a little faint.

He glanced back and saw Aramis using any available tree trunk as a support, his friend was limping and appeared to be bleeding quite badly from a cut to his right foot.

'Why did you not say you were injured?' said Athos, unable to hide the annoyance from his voice.

The marksman did look a little contrite, although pain formed most of his expression. Aramis blinked a couple of times and shivered.

'Sorry, I didn't want to worry you, we need to keep moving.'

Athos reached to his neck and pulled away his scarf, 'at least bind the wound, I know we cannot clean it, but you are leaving rather effective trail markings.'

Athos pointed behind Aramis who turned and nodded when he saw the bloody footprints he had left on the muddy ground.

'Sorry,' said Aramis as he sat on the ground to wrap the scarf around his foot.

'Now who's apologising unnecessarily?' said Athos with a smile as he crouched down by his friend.

Aramis was a sorry sight, he was covered in blossoming bruises, he feet and ankles were covered in small cuts and grazes and he was shivering. Athos wondered if his friend would even make it back to the house. Athos might be forced to leave Aramis behind to get help for him. He did not like the idea of leaving his friend alone with the possibility of Victor finding him before Athos could return.

He watched as the marksman bound his foot tightly. Athos reached out with his left hand and helped Aramis back up to stand. Gingerly Aramis put weight on the injured foot, he looked at Athos and shook his head.

'I don't think I'm going to be able to get to the house, I'm going to slow you down too much, you should go.'

'We can carry on together for a bit, we do not know how much further it is anyway.'

Aramis nodded as he allowed Athos to slip his arm around his waist to support him as they continued their journey.

MMMM

Aramis wished Athos would see sense and leave him. Although it was clear his friend was suffering as well. But Athos, at least, could walk unaided. The assortment of bruises and the cuts to his feet were starting to take their toll on Aramis. He knew he was getting slower, the limp more pronounced with every step.

Athos had lapsed into silence, he had been offering the odd word of encouragement when they restarted their walk, but now he just looked pensive.

'Stop blaming yourself,' said Aramis as he tried to suppress another shiver.

'But I put the idea in his head, and I antagonised him…'

'...by stopping him from beating me,' said Aramis, 'you weren't going to stand by and let him kick me back at the house. You reacted as any of us would. If he had knocked you down and gone to kick you, I would have pulled him away as well.'

Athos did not reply.

'And as for the whole 'whipping boy' thing, we weren't to know he was listening to our conversation. It was an off the cuff comment, that I agreed with...this is not your fault.'

Athos still did not reply, he readjusted his hold on Aramis and carried on walking slowly.

'And you are injured as well.'

'I do not think that was part of Victor's plan. I think he would have preferred it to only be you that was hurt.'

Aramis managed a quiet laugh, 'well we showed him then didn't we...he didn't get it all his own way. Well done for breaking your arm to get back at him.'

Athos tried to hide the smile the marksman's remark caused.

They both looked around when they heard a horse approach them.

MMMM

As they approached the large house a man walked down the steps towards them looking concerned.

'Is something wrong? I saw Athos and Aramis off a few hours ago,' the man was looking at the riderless horses being led by Porthos and d'Artagnan.

'Are you the Comte?' asked Porthos as he dismounted.

'Yes, Monette,' replied the man, 'I don't understand.'

'Neither of our friends has returned to the garrison, we were concerned,' d'Artagnan said as he also dismounted.

'Father,' said a boy who had walked out of the house with the Comte.

'Not know Leon,' said the Comte as he tried to dismiss his son.

'No, you need to hear this, it's about Aramis and Athos…'

All three men turned to the boy who looked a little intimidated by the sudden attention but managed to continue.

'I overheard Victor, talking with his friends. He was angry that Athos had stopped him from hitting Aramis.'

'What?' said Porthos.

'There was an incident when your friends first arrived, my son has an issue with class. He thinks he is better than everyone else. Your friend, Aramis, was on the receiving end and Athos intervened. Victor was not happy about it.'

Leon looked at his father who nodded for him to continue, 'Victor and his friends said they should get the Musketeers as they left the grounds...I didn't think they would really do anything...I should have said something...I'm sorry.'

Monette put his hand on Leon's shoulder and said, 'you have not done anything wrong, Victor is generally all talk and no action...go and saddle our horses we'll go and look for them.'

'Use theirs,' said d'Artagnan indicating Athos and Aramis' horses which were patiently waiting.

After they had all mounted up, Leon led the way back towards the wooded area.

'I hate to ask monsieur,' said d'Artagnan, 'but is Victor capable of hurting our friends?'

Monette nodded sadly, 'I believe so. He has become an unruly young man. I just hope that your friends are alright.'

'His friends are mean, I don't like Philippe. He once pushed me into the river,' said Leon from ahead of the three men.

D'Artagnan exchanged a glance with Porthos, their concern seemed to have been justified.

MMMM

Victor pushed his horse towards the two injured men. Aramis pushed Athos away from him as the galloping beast approached. Athos heard a grunt of pain from Aramis as Victor passed. The swordsman looked back to Aramis and saw him collapsed on the ground, trying to get up, but clearly in pain.

As Athos rushed to his friend's side Aramis said, 'you'll have to go…'

Aramis tried to push Athos away.

'He'll come back, he's determined...go, Athos.'

Much as Athos wanted to stay, he knew Aramis was right, he could not defend himself and there was no way Aramis could outrun or evade the horseman.

Athos looked around, he could hear Victor slowing the horse to turn and come back. A large old tree stood a few yards away, its roots protruded from the ground.

'Hide there, you can push yourself down, he may not see you.'

Aramis looked across to the tree and nodded, with difficulty Athos pulled his friend up and helped him over to the tree. Both men were panting, Aramis had been unable to prevent a couple of cries of pain. Athos had no time to assess the marksman's injuries, he had to hope it was nothing more than bruising.

'Go, before he comes back,' said Aramis through clenched teeth.

With one final look at his friend, Athos turned and ran, holding his broken arm close to his body. He ran in the same direction they had been walking, he hoped he was close to the house. Victor was bound to catch him up quickly.

He emerged into an open area, as he tore across he realised Victor had found him again and was urging his horse forward. The galloping beast did not hit him, but the closeness caused Athos to fall. He screamed in pain as his broken arm knocked into the ground. As he tried to push himself back up he was aware of Victor walking the horse back towards him.

'Where's your man? If you haven't got your whipping boy how can I punish you?'

Athos raised his uninjured arm in an attempt to push the horse away. The beast had been brought right up beside him. But Victor kept his horse walking around the fallen man, its hooves coming close to hitting Athos.

'I'll run you down, then I will find your man, and finish him off as well.'

Athos could do nothing to protect himself, the waves of pain flooding his body were debilitating. He was breathing hard, he knew he was close to passing out. Athos sent a silent apology to Aramis; no help would be coming to his injured brother.

Victor had moved the horse away a few yards and was staring at him. Athos could only look back.

MMMM

Athos lay on the ground panting watching Victor. Victor smirked and started to lean forward to urge the horse on. The young man suddenly sat up, a look of shock on his face.

'Do not take a step towards that man,' yelled Monette as he trotted towards his son, riding Aramis' horse.

Athos flopped onto his back, trying to calm his breathing.

'Athos?' said Porthos from above him.

Athos turned his head to see Porthos crouched beside him, d'Artagnan stood back a few paces glaring in the direction of Victor who was receiving a stern talking to from his father.

'Are you hurt?'

'Broken arm...go and get Aramis.'

Porthos looked around, as if he was expecting to see the marksman nearby.

'He's back in the wood... he couldn't run.'

'Where did you leave him?' said Leon who had approached Athos from the other side.

Porthos helped Athos to sit up, his vision clouded slightly, fighting to stay awake Athos replied.

'There was a big tree, with exposed roots, I left him there...he was barely conscious.'

'I know where he means, I used to hide out there...from him,' said Leon glancing across at his brother.

'I'll look after Athos, you two go and find Aramis,' said d'Artagnan.

Porthos nodded as he allowed d'Artagnan to take his place keeping the injured swordsman steady.

They remounted and disappeared back in the direction Athos had come from.

'Get off the horse, you insolent boy,' Monette was shouting at his son, the anger evident in his voice, 'you could have killed him...was that your intention? You're a fool, a stupid child.'

Victor stared at the ground. He said nothing.

Monette turned to Athos and d'Artagnan, 'do you think you can ride?'

Athos nodded.

'Are you sure? You look like you're about to pass out.'

D'Artagnan was eyeing him with concern, Athos managed a small smile, 'I will manage for a few minutes...but you will have to help me to mount up.'

Monette dismounted and walked across to the two Musketeers. He helped Athos up. D'Artagnan kept an arm around his waist as they walked the few yards to Victor's horse. With help from both men, Athos managed to mount up. D'Artagnan quickly remounted and walked his horse up beside Athos. Monette came to the other side.

'You can walk back,' said Monette to his son.

D'Artagnan had to steady Athos several times on the short journey back to the house. Athos managed to remain conscious throughout. As they neared the house Monette called the old gardener over to them.

'Find Luke and send him to the village for the physician, tell him there are two injured men that need his help. I shall pay for his time.'

The gardener nodded and hastened off to complete his task.

Monette turned back to the two Musketeers, he reached over to Athos, laying his hand on the injured man's leg, 'I don't know what to say. I cannot believe he would do this to you both.'

Athos managed to reply quietly, 'you are not to blame monsieur.'

Monette did not look convinced.

MMMM

Aramis stared up at the darkening sky. The air was cool and he was shivering uncontrollably. He ached all over, the beating he had taken and being knocked over by the horse had left him in pain. He did not think he had any broken bones, but he did know he would not stay conscious for much longer. His vision was greying, the pain becoming overwhelming. He closed his eyes.

The sound of approaching horses had Aramis force his eyes open again. If Victor was back it probably meant Athos had been caught. It was too soon for the approaching horsemen to be help. Aramis wondered if Victor had killed his brother, the vindictive young man was evil. Aramis knew Victor was capable of killing them, and he probably would think nothing of it.

The horses slowed. It had to be Victor with his friends, come to finish him off. Aramis threw up a silent prayer, selfishly asking for a quick death.

MMMM


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

'Aramis!'

'Monsieur Aramis?'

'Here,' came a quiet reply from the tree they were heading towards.

Leon had located the tree he thought Athos had meant quickly. They could not see Aramis as they approached, it was only as they reached it that they saw the prone form of the marksman.

'We was gettin' worried about you,' Pothos said with a forced smile as he crouched down beside his friend.

'I was getting worried about myself,' replied the marksman.

Aramis was shivering and looked unfocused, Porthos was surprised the man was still conscious.

'Athos?'

'Alive, Monette and d'Artagnan are taking him back to the house...sorry but I'm gonna have to move you, you can't stay there.'

Aramis managed another smile, which was quickly replaced by a grimace as Porthos and Leon helped him up.

Porthos was concerned he would cause his brother more pain, but the quicker they could get him back to the house the better. The wounds to his feet and ankles need to be cleaned and dressed, Aramis would be lucky not to have any infected injuries.

'Leon,' said Porthos, 'hold my horse steady whilst I help Aramis up.'

The young lad nodded and did as he was told, Porthos was supporting most of Aramis' weight. With difficulty he pushed the marksman up onto his horse, quickly mounting up behind him before he fell off again.

'I can hold you, pass out, you deserve it,' he said quietly to Aramis as his friend blinked a few times.

Leon had remounted and led the way back toward the house. Aramis was unconscious by the time they reached the house.

MMMM

D'Artagnan dropped a blanket over Athos' shoulders. The swordsman was sitting on the steps at the front of the house, he had refused to go in until he knew Aramis was safe. D'Artagnan had humoured his friend, there was little they could do for him until the doctor arrived.

'Monette is sorting you and Aramis out with rooms, he says we can stay as long as is necessary.'

'He is a good man,' said Athos, 'a shame his son did not inherit the trait.'

'Leon did,' replied d'Artagnan.

'But Leon will not inherit the title.'

D'Artagnan sighed, Athos had a point. They sat in silence for a few minutes watching the tree line. A man and a boy walking towards the house caught d'Artagnan's eye.

'That must be the doctor,' he said pointing them out to Athos.

The boy, who probably worked in the stable peeled off and disappeared around the house as the man continued to walk towards them.

'I'm guessing you are one of my patients,' the elderly man said as he reached them.

'I have a broken arm, my friend set if a while ago, I suspect he will be in more need of your services…'

The doctor looked at him, 'young man, I will be the judge of what you need. Where is my other patient?'

'On his way,' said d'Artagnan as he helped Athos to stand.

Crossing the lawn were Porthos with a pale Aramis on one horse and Leon on the other.

'I can see you have had quite an adventure, my friend,' said the doctor with a smile, 'and now that you no longer have to worry about the whereabouts of your friend, I would like you to come with me so that I can look at that arm properly.

Porthos called over to them, 'he's alive, Athos, let the doctor see to you.'

D'Artagnan guided the still preoccupied Athos into the house and pushed him into a room with several comfortable seats and a fire. The doctor indicated a seat, d'Artagnan pushed Athos into it.

'I'll help Porthos, you stay there and do as the doctor says,' said d'Artagnan with a smile.

'Thank you,' said the doctor before he turned to Athos who was watching d'Artagnan leave the room.

'You should see to Aramis first,' he said.

The doctor rolled his eyes, 'at the very least you are going to drink this,' he said holding up a small vial of liquid.

'What is that?' asked Athos eyeing the vial with suspicion.

'A painkiller, you, my friend are in quite a lot of pain, this will ease it for you,' replied the doctor.

Reluctantly Athos took the liquid.

'It will take a few minutes, but you will feel better for it. Now if you promise me you will stay there, I will check your friend.'

Athos nodded and leaned back in the chair, he found his energy had depleted rapidly since seeing Porthos return with Aramis.

MMMM

'I've given your friend a sleeping-draught, he shouldn't bother us for a few hours,' said the doctor as he entered the bedroom where Porthos and d'Artagnan were busy stripping Aramis of his damp and dirty clothes.

The doctor tutted as he took in the unconscious man lying on the bed, 'they have been in the wars…' he paused and looked up at Porthos before adding, 'I suppose this is not quite an actual war, which I am sure you have all seen at some point.'

Porthos smiled, he had instantly warmed to the old doctor.

Monette came into the room with a servant who was carrying a bowl of hot water which was set on a table by the bed. Monette dropped some cloths down on the bed.

'Let me know if you need anything else,' he said to the doctor.

'We'll be fine, you could go and sit with the other one, he should be asleep by now, just keep an eye on him,' said the doctor.

Monette nodded and left the room.

'I take it you two can clean him up...you could probably stitch him up as well no doubt.'

D'Artagnan smiled, 'he usually stitches us up,' he said pointing at the man on the bed.

'I shall have to do my best work on him then,' said the doctor as he inspected the wound on Aramis' foot.

They spent the next few minutes in silence, each man busy with their own task. The doctor carefully cleaned all the cuts and scrapes Aramis had received and after checking the man for any broken bones settled down to stitch the wound on his foot.

'Would you be so kind as to hold him down, if he wakes up whilst I'm doing this I would rather not get kicked.'

Porthos laughed as he sat on the bed next to Aramis and pulled the still unconscious man up a little so that he could sit behind him.

The doctor worked quickly, his stitches small and neat.

'I think they're better than the ones he does,' said Porthos as he watched the old man working.

'I have decades of experience young man,' the doctor replied as he cut the thread after the final stitch, 'I think he will remain unconscious for a while, he is clearly exhausted. I cannot be sure we got the wounds all cleaned in time to prevent any infections. I would recommend you keep him off his feet for a few days if you can. But they should heal well. You know what to do if he does develop an infection?'

Both Porthos and d'Artagnan nodded.

'Good,' said the doctor, 'I'll go and look at your friend.'

'Thank you,' said Porthos as the doctor packed his things away.

MMMM

The Comte returned to the sitting room after seeing the doctor out. D'Artagnan was watching over the still sleeping Athos.

'Thank you for arranging for the doctor, I'm sure our Captain will reimburse you,' said d'Artagnan as Monette stood on the threshold of the room.

'No, this is my fault, I won't take your money.'

'How is it your fault? Your son is an adult, you are not responsible for him. He made his own decision to assault them.'

Monette did not seem placated.

'Where is Victor?' asked d'Artagnan.

He had not seen the young man since they left him in the clearing when they rescued Athos, the sullen youth had started walking after them, but he had not appeared at the house.

'I don't know, he'll turn up eventually. Probably licking his wounds somewhere. He has nowhere else to go. None of his friends will take him in and he is not very popular in the village. I feel such a failure as a father.'

'Leon is a respectable boy. He was more than helpful this afternoon.'

Monette smiled fondly, 'yes, he takes after his mother. I'm afraid Victor is similar to me when I was his age. When I met Sarah, my late wife, I changed a lot.'

Athos stirred in his sleep, d'Artagnan watched him. He appeared to be dreaming for a few seconds before settling again.

'We should move him upstairs. Since Marie has made up a room for him, he may as well make use of it. The doctor said he should sleep for several hours.'

D'Artagnan nodded, 'I'll get Porthos.'

'No need,' said Monette, 'I will help you with him.'

Not for the first time d'Artagnan was surprised by the Comte down to earth relaxed nature. He was unlike any nobleman he had met before, including Athos. But Athos had his demons, which left him with a sometimes aloof nature.

Between them, they carried the sleeping musketeer up the stairs and into the room that had been prepared. Porthos wandered in as d'Artagnan was pulling off the swordsman's boots.

'He still out then?'

'Yes, probably will be for a few hours yet,' replied d'Artagnan.

'How is Aramis?' asked the Comte.

'He'll be fine, although he ain't gonna be walking for a few days.'

'You are welcome to stay here until he is well enough to travel.'

'No, he won't like that. We'll get him on a horse in the morning, he can rest in his rooms just as easily. But your offer is appreciated,' said Porthos with a smile.

MMMM

Aramis stared at the ceiling of the large room. The bed was very comfortable, it seemed to have enveloped him. Generally, when he got to lie on a big soft bed he would be sharing it with a woman. It was not often he slept in such a bed alone.

Porthos had been with him when he awoke. The big Musketeer had stopped him from trying to move about too much. Which Aramis had appreciated. He still hurt everywhere, but somehow the softness of the mattress made the pain seem less. His foot throbbed where the stitches had been put in.

Porthos had made him drink and eat before leaving him to join d'Artagnan, Monette and Leon for a meal. Porthos had left the door open to his room telling him to call if he needed anything. Porthos had been quite insistent, telling the marksman that if he caught him on his feet he would tie him to the bed to prevent further activity. Aramis had laughed at the remark but Porthos had looked serious.

The room was lit by a single candle, Aramis wanted to blow it out, but the thought of moving to do so was not appealing. He knew he should keep moving to prevent himself from becoming too stiff, but he knew he would feel worse in the morning anyway so why delay the inevitable. And he also had the very real chance of an infection to look forward to. Porthos had said that the very thorough doctor had cleaned his feet and ankles but even he had said it was a possibility. Aramis hoped, if he was to face a feverish infection, they would be back in Paris. He did not want to burden the already guilty feeling Monette with any further upset.

The Comte had sat with him for a little while after he had regained consciousness. The poor man was devastated at what his son had done. He said the young man would be dealt with severely for his misdemeanour. Monette had hinted that he would be sending the young man away for a long time. It would not do for the local landowner to be seen allowing his son to get away with what he had done.

A creek of a floorboard drew his attention. The creek happened again, he looked towards the open door. He could not see properly due to the lit candle next to his bed. A shadow passed the door. He heard a door across the hallway open quietly. The room where Athos was sleeping. Aramis wondered who would have gone into the room without first stopping to see him. They knew he was awake. And why were they creeping about?

Curious, Aramis painfully pushed himself up to sit. Another creak, the person was walking around in the room where Athos was. Aramis could not understand it, Athos had been drugged, the chances of him waking were slim, why creep about in his room?

Victor.

Aramis felt his breathing quicken as he realised who it must be. Nobody else in the house would be creeping about in the shadows. Victor would not realise Athos was drugged. Victor would think the helpless Musketeer was merely asleep. Thoughts rushed through Aramis' head. He was unsure what to do. If Victor was armed and Aramis shouted out he could kill Athos before anyone reached him. Aramis had no choice, he had to apprehend Victor on his own. Which meant walking. Which would be painful.

Throwing back the bedclothes Aramis swung his legs off the bed. He held his breath as he settled his feet on the floor, slowly standing up. Once standing Aramis took a couple of steadying breaths before slowly making his way across the room. Each step was agony, particularly as he stepped on his right leg. His limping gait was not quiet, but he could do nothing about the sound he made as he took each step. He managed not to cry out with pain, but he was sweating from the effort by the time he reached the doorway.

Aramis carefully opened the door fully and peered across the hallway. The door to Athos' room stood open. A full moon cast enough light into the hallway and Athos' room for Aramis to see by. He carefully crossed the hall, bracing himself on the wall by the door, Aramis looked into the room. What he saw made him move quicker than he thought possible in his current state of health.

Victor was leaning over the still form of Athos, a pillow in his hands. He was holding the pillow over Athos' face, pressing it down.

Aramis rushed forward, yelling for help as he did so. He knew he would not be able to keep hold of Victor for long. Under normal circumstances taking the untrained young man to the ground would not be an issue, but he was suffering from multiple injuries and fatigue. But, he hoped, he might be able to restrain the man long enough for Porthos and d'Artagnan to reach him.

Victor looked up as Aramis yelled, he turned, raising his hand as he did so. Aramis pushed the hand aside and punched the young man who staggered back a few paces. Aramis used his forward momentum to reach Victor and try to pin him to the wall. But Victor pushed Aramis back, knocking him to the floor. Aramis landed hard, the air knocked out of him. As his vision clouded over Aramis feared he would pass out. Victor kicked him in the ribs before trying to run. Aramis was determined in his task. Despite the stab of pain the kick had caused, he managed to grab the young man's ankle, causing him to crash to the floor.

Aramis turned over and tried to push himself up. Victor kicked out again, catching Aramis in the face leaving him stunned, he let go of the man's ankle. Victor scrambled up and ran from the room.

MMMM


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

They had all reacted to Aramis' yell for help. Porthos and d'Artagnan were on their feet and rushing to the door within a second. Monette and Leon were close behind the two Musketeers.

Porthos had only one thought as to the cause for Aramis' alarm. Victor. The young man had still not returned to the house. That they knew.

As he thundered up the stairs with d'Artagnan a step behind, he drew his gun in readiness. They reached the hallway in time to meet Victor running out of the room Athos was sleeping in. Without thinking, Porthos flipped the gun and swung it at Victor catching him across the face. The man collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

'Aramis!' called Porthos, as he double checked that Victor would not be waking up for a while.

'In here,' said d'Artagnan who had gone straight into Athos' room.

Porthos followed. D'Artagnan was helping a panting Aramis to sit up.

'Check Athos,' he said pointing at the still form of their brother on the bed, a pillow lying on his chest, 'Victor was smothering him.'

Porthos moved the pillow and gently rested his hand on the swordsman's chest for a few seconds, relieved to feel the steady rise and fall as his sleeping brother continued to breathe normally.

'He's alright,' said Porthos looking over to Aramis who sighed with relief.

They all looked around at Monette who was stood in the doorway, a candle in his hand. He looked back into the hallway at his unconscious son shaking his head.

'Would you be able to move him to his room, I'll lock him in...I...I cannot let this pass without doing something.'

Monette turned and walked away, his head bowed.

'I'll be fine for a few minutes...deal with Victor...I won't try to move,' said Aramis.

Porthos nodded. He and d'Artagnan returned to the unconscious man and dragged him to his room. The door being held open by Monette. They dropped the young man on his bed before checking the windows would not provide an escape route. Monette closed and locked the door, he handed the key to d'Artagnan. Monette walked away slowly, as he passed Leon who was stood a few feet away, he pulled the boy to him in a hug before they walked down the stairs together.

'Will Victor hang do you think?' asked d'Artagnan as he watched the desolate father walk away.

'He's the Comte, he has jurisdiction...but the lad did just try to kill Athos, on top of what he did to Aramis. Monette has some tough decisions to make,' replied Porthos sadly as he made his way back to Aramis and Athos.

MMMM

Aramis had, for once, done as he said he would. He had not moved from the floor. Porthos crouched down looking at his friends bleeding foot.

'The stitches are pulled, we're gonna have to put them back in.'

'I know,' said Aramis.

D'Artagnan and Porthos helped Aramis back to his room and settled him on the bed. Porthos disappeared to get water to clean the wound again while d'Artagnan readied a needle and thread.

'I can't imagine how much this is going to hurt,' said d'Artagnan sympathetically.

'I'm just glad you've only got to redo a couple of them.'

D'Artagnan could hear the slight trepidation in the marksman's voice. Aramis was shaking slightly and blinking, trying to stay awake.

'Should we knock you out?'

'Rather you didn't,' replied Aramis as he grabbed his weapon belt and after pulling the gun from it folded the leather ready to use it between his teeth.

Porthos returned with the water and one of the male servants.

'Simon's gonna help keep you still. I don't want you kicking d'Artagnan.'

Simon smiled, a little nervously, 'we heard what happened, the master looks devastated. Marie is making him and Leon a warm drink.'

'I feel so sorry for him,' said Aramis before hissing in pain as d'Artagnan went about cleaning the blood from his foot.

Porthos moved to sit behind Aramis, keeping him still, while Simon sat on the end of the bed and leaned on the marksman's legs.

'Ready?' asked d'Artagnan as he wielded the needle, when all three men nodded, and Aramis had bitten down on the leather belt, he began stitching.

Despite a valiant effort, Aramis screamed in pain as the stitches went in. Simon had his work cut out as Aramis tried to pull his leg away, but the servant persevered. Porthos held his friend tightly, offering words of comfort. D'Artagnan found that he had to put four stitches in, his needlework not as efficient as the doctors had been.

When he had finished Aramis was covered with sweat and panting, his eyes screwed shut. Porthos kept hold of his friend for a few minutes until he had settled his breathing and nodded that he was alright.

'Thank you, Simon,' said d'Artagnan as the servant took away the bloody water and cloths they had used.

'I'm going to sit with Athos, I don't think he should be alone when he wakes, and he'll want to know what's been going on.'

D'artagnan nodded to Porthos and Aramis as he left the room.

'Thank you,' said Aramis quietly.

MMMM

The following morning, Athos sat on the bed next to the still sleeping Aramis. When he had awoken and d'Artagnan had explained what had gone on he had found the events difficult to take in. If it had not been for Aramis, he would have been killed by Victor.

He fully understood why the doctor had given him the sleeping draught and bore him no ill will. Thinking back, he knew he had been a little confused due to the pain. The doctor needed him to rest and forcing the issue was probably, at the time, the only way to achieve it. It was unfortunate that it meant he could not react to the attempted murder Victor then committed.

Monette had not appeared, he had shut himself away in his study early in the morning. The servants, Marie and Simon, had taken Leon down to the kitchen with them to keep him occupied.

The question of what was to be done with Victor weighed heavily on everyone's mind. He had been on thin ground with the assault on Aramis the previous day, followed by the attack on himself with the horse. But they could argue that he had not been trying to kill either of them. His friends had been complicit in the attack on Aramis which in itself could see the four of them hang, although neither Aramis or himself would have wanted that. But the concerted effort to kill him, was another matter. Victor had meant to kill him, he was sure of that. If Aramis had not intervened he would have succeeded.

Did the stupid petulant young man deserve to face the hangman's noose? His actions were not reasonable. Neither he or Aramis had done anything that would warrant Victor's behaviour. What might have started out as a bit of sadistic fun for Victor, had quickly become something even darker. Beating a man, even in the mixed-up way Victor had done, was wholly different to trying to kill someone.

Athos pitied Monette. The Comte had a most difficult decision to make. He had to be seen to be doing the correct thing. Athos knew what the man was going through. He shuddered at the memories.

Aramis stirred, opening his eyes with a sigh.

'Good morning,' said Athos looking down at his friend.

Aramis blinked a few times, and winced before replying, 'not sure how 'good' it is.'

Athos nodded. As Aramis pushed himself up to sit Athos steadied him. Aramis hissed in pain as his whole body complained.

'Hurting everywhere, I would imagine?'

'Yes,' said Aramis through clenched teeth as he worked through the pain the simple act of sitting had caused.

Athos looked at Aramis for a few moments, trying to find the words he needed to say. Aramis beat him to it.

'You're welcome...and you would have done the same for me, or any of us.'

Athos nodded, before handing his friend a cup of water. Aramis dutifully drank.

'Where is everyone? Has Monette made a decision yet?'

'Porthos has gone to check on the horses, we would like to leave today, if you are up to it...but only if you are up to it,' said Athos, 'd'Artagnan has gone down to the kitchen to see if Marie could put us together some breakfast.'

A voice from the door caused them both to look over, 'my father told me to say he's still not worked out what to do with Victor.'

Leon, who somehow seemed younger than before crossed the room carrying a tray. He lay it on the bed between Aramis and Athos.

'D'Artagnan will be a few minutes.'

'How is your father?' asked Aramis as Leon stood beside the bed looking a little lost and indecisive.

'I don't think he slept at all last night. He doesn't know what to do.'

D'Artagnan pushed the door open as he entered, closely followed by Porthos.

'I'll leave you to your breakfast,' said Leon as he backed out of the room before disappearing along the hallway.

They watched him go, 'poor lad,' said Porthos as he crossed the room pulling a chair with him.

D'Artagnan pushed the covers off Aramis' legs and inspected his work from the previous night. Athos grabbed Aramis as he tried to move away when d'Artagnan touched the bandages.

'Sorry,' said d'Artagnan looking up at his friend, 'I'll redress it before we go.'

Aramis nodded as Athos let him go. They sat in silence for a few minutes eating. Despite the situation all four were ravenous. As they finished eating they became aware of another presence at the doorway.

Monette was watching them.

MMMM

Athos had been about to rise from the bed as Monette entered but the Comte waved him back.

'You are injured Athos, stay there,' he said.

'How are you feeling?' asked d'Artagnan as he offered his chair to the Comte.

The man remained standing a little distance away from them all. He was shaking slightly.

'I have to condemn him...he tried to kill you...what he did last night was beyond reproach.'

'No, monsieur, surely there is something else you could do? Send him away, do you have distant relatives he could be sent to?'

'I know you mean well, Athos, but I have made up my mind.'

Aramis watched each of his brothers react to the news, none of them wanted to see the young man hanged, but Monette was correct, trying to kill Athos had been a despicable act. There was no coming back from that kind of violence.

Porthos took a step forward, 'would you like us to deal with it?'

Monette managed a small smile as he replied, 'thank you, but no, this is something I have to deal with. This is my jurisdiction and I am the one responsible for him.'

The five men lapsed into silence for a few moments. None of them could find anything to say. Aramis realised there probably was nothing to say.

The silence was ended by a gunshot.

Monette jumped at the sound, turning to the door. Porthos was already at the door with d'Artagnan. Athos climbed off the bed and followed them, pausing at the door. He turned to Aramis.

'Do not move from that bed.'

Aramis nodded. He watched Athos disappear. He heard his friends moving along the hallway. The noise of the gunshot had come from the direction of Victor's room. A thought occurred to Aramis as he tensely waited. He glanced across at the table beside the bed. He vaguely remembered removing his gun from the weapons belt and leaving it there. The gun was not there now. He knew it had been loaded.

The only person other than his brothers who had stood near the table had been Leon. Aramis realised the lad had backed out of the room. It had seemed a little odd at the time, but they were all preoccupied, so he had not questioned it. Now he realised Leon had taken his gun.

Had he just shot someone? Shot his brother?

D'artagnan reappeared in the doorway, he looked pale. He was holding Aramis' gun. He crossed the room and after putting the gun down he sat on the edge of the bed and took a breath. Aramis watched him.

'Victor shot himself...Leon gave him your gun, told him that his father had said he was going to hang. Leon gave him a way out. Saved his father from having to hang his own son.'

Aramis looked away, blinking back tears, he knew d'Artagnan was doing the same thing. Leon, had solved the problem that both Monette and Victor faced.

D'Artagnan continued, 'Leon must have known his father would condemn his brother, he planned this out...he took the key to Victor's room from my pocket when I'd taken my doublet off…'

'He took my gun from the table earlier,' said Aramis, 'is Leon alright?'

'He's with his father, I don't think Monette will punish him. Monette seemed relieved.'

'I'm not surprised,' said Aramis sadly.

MMMM

Athos returned to Aramis' side as d'Artagnan and Porthos dealt with Monette and Victor. Athos had suggested they lay Victor on his bed and clean the body up a bit. Monette and Leon would probably need to sit with Victor as they came to terms with all that had gone on.

Aramis had been quiet since Athos took a seat next to him.

'This is not your fault you know,' said Athos quietly.

'Why did he take my gun then? Victor had his own gun, Leon could have put the idea into Victor's head…'

'Leon is a child, he took your gun because it was available to him. He needed a weapon he could get at easily. Monette keeps their own weapons locked away, and we are not sure where Victor's gun is.'

'I shouldn't have left it lying there…'

'Aramis,' said Athos as he continued to try to get his friend to see reason, 'my weapons are hooked over a chair in the other room. I know d'Artagnan left his lying around whilst he was dealing with you yesterday. Leon had this planned, he could have taken any of our weapons. Stop blaming yourself. What Leon did...I think...was actually very brave. He could see the problem that his father was facing. And he found a solution.'

'What if Victor had shot Leon?'

'D'Artagnan said that when he checked on Victor with Porthos first thing this morning, the lad looked very depressed. He did not move when they went in the room. He did not react to them. I think Victor knew what his future held.'

Athos watched as Aramis worked through his worry.

Porthos entered carrying Aramis' boots and doublet.

'Putting these on is not going to be pleasant, but it would be better if you could wear your boots for the journey,' he said.

Aramis nodded. Porthos helped Aramis to dress and put his boots on. Athos slung his uninjured arm around Aramis' shoulders as Porthos pulled the boots onto the injured man's feet. Aramis screwed up his eyes and stifled a cry of pain. He was pale by the time they had finished.

'I'll get d'Artagnan, to help. The less weight you have to put on your feet the better.'

After virtually carrying Aramis down the stairs and unceremoniously getting him on the back of his horse, Porthos and d'Artagnan turned to help Athos who had followed them down.

'One moment gentlemen,' said Monette from behind them.

The Comte looked tired and older than the day before.

'I just wanted to thank you...you could have handled all this in a very different manner. What Victor did was horrible. I know you say I should not blame myself but I am. He was my son, I raised him.'

Athos asked, 'how is Leon?'

Monette smiled slightly, 'my son and heir, is still shocked at what he helped Victor to do. He asked me to apologise for taking your gun monsieur.'

'Tell him not to worry about it,' said Aramis.

'Leon is the opposite of Victor. Once he has recovered, once we have recovered from the shock of all this, I intend to ensure he grows up to be a well-rounded individual who will, one day, take on this estate and run it better than I have done.'

Monette smiled sadly.

'Have a safe journey home monsieurs.'

The Musketeers nodded to the Comte as he turned to go back into the house. Porthos and d'Artagnan helped Athos to mount up.

As they pushed the horses into a gentle trot Athos glanced back at the house.

'Do you think they will get over it?' asked Aramis.

'In time,' replied Athos.

The End.

Authors note: Thanks for all the lovely reviews.


End file.
